Page 82 of Prisoner

Casper’s fingers reach my knickers and his cold fingertips pull them aside as my pussy is exposed to him.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” I shout and scream, trying to jolt my hips. But nothing works. My legs are splayed open, bound to the chair with no leeway to close them.

“Theo,” King whispers and my eyes find his.

As soon as I latch onto his eyes, a cold finger trails along my slit and my eyes fog, tears blurring my vision. But I keep them attached to King’s and the sad helplessness glossing them.

Memories of being assaulted in the prison come back to me and I relive the whole experience but only ten times worse.

King can’t protect me now. And worse, he has to watch it happen and can do nothing about it.

I blink to clear the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath in as Casper’s finger descends lower to my entrance, when a loud bang echoes through the small room and the door flies open once again.

At the distraction, Edison’s grip loosens on my wrists and I pull them free before landing a hard uppercut against Casper’s chin, punching his jaw in full force. His head jerks back but only for a few seconds before he retaliates, but I’m already on him.

I lunge forward and crash into him, taking the metal chair my legs are still tied to with me. I land multiple punches anywhere I can, and even though my knuckles are killing me, I don’t stop.

I can hear shouts and the sounds of grunts coming from around me, but my only focus is on Casper and the gun in my father’s blazer. Casper pushes me off him and I use the momentum to push myself up with my arms and try to haul myself over to where my father’s corpse is.

The chair is heavy on my ankles and the rope is searing into my skin as I try to pull myself across the floor.

Casper lands on top of me and turns the top half of my body so I’m lying on my back, my hips at a weird angle as the metal chair won’t twist the lower half of my body with it.

Casper’s hands find my neck, but they don’t fit like King’s does and he presses down hard, denying me any oxygen as they squeeze tighter and tighter.

I reach my arm above me, feeling around for the gun as my fingers trail over the sticky blood. My arm weakens as my life is drained out of me, but my fingers find the handle and I stretch as much as I can trying to get a hold of it.

“Oi, cunt!” a feminine voice shouts out and pulls at the hairs on Casper’s head, hauling him up. Casper’s fingers loosen the tiniest fraction around my neck, and with the little strength I have left, I palm the handle of the gun and in one swift motion, bring my arm down, directly in front of me, and shoot, and for the second time in only a matter of months, I fly a bullet straight through the skull of evil.

Casper’s body goes limp, his blood coating my skin, mixing with the remains of my father’s and he falls forwards towards me before a boot flies across me and kicks him off to collapse at my side.

I throw the gun to the floor and reach for my neck with shaky hands, trying to alleviate the pressure and take huge gulps of air back into my lungs.

“You okay?” Rori says, wincing at her stupid question, crouching down next to me and holding out her hand in comfort. I hold on to it and as I sit up I realise my ankles have been cut free from the ropes. Deep red gashes surround them, blood dripping harshly and pooling on the floor. My bare legs are scraped from the floor and covered in bruises from the car hit.

I’m a fucking mess, but I’m alive.

Rori helps me stand and I wince at the pain in my ribs and ankles, whilst trying to gain my balance. Once steady on my feet, Rori is at my side, holding my hand, and I look ahead to see Edison on the ground, King and Dax standing united in front of us.

Four people who should have never been part of each other’s lives, but by circumstance ended up being the only people they needed. Four people, battered and bruised, moulded by their past, united together in an odd harmony.

I’ve never known the feeling of family, but I do now.

EPILOGUE

THEO

I stareout at the forested area in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, remembering the last time I was here. I’d been assaulted by one of the inmates. King, Dax, and Puck had come to my rescue.

Puck.

It seems longer than a year that I was in here with him, living out every day as it came. It feels like yesterday that I would talk to him for hours, predicting the weather, laughing at his stories about King, crying at his stories about Bonnie.

I place my hands on the cool glass, my head in between them, looking out at the rain falling heavily outside. I close my eyes and listen as the rain hits the window, trying to keep my own tears at bay and let the sky cry for me like it did that dreadful night.

I hate closing my eyes when I’m alone.

I feel the pain of everything.

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